


Grief

by The_Fictionist_Aura



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Drinking to Cope, F/M, Gen, Ghost Sex, Grief/Mourning, Multi, Other, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-04 05:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14012928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fictionist_Aura/pseuds/The_Fictionist_Aura
Summary: “Did he say anything before he asked for me?”“No, just that he was Rick Grimes and to ‘give him Negan’.”“What did he sound like?”“Sound like?”“You know - did he sound like he had a stick up his ass, shaking, like he was able to get his dick sucked - what did he sound like?”Post walkie-talkie talk 8x10.





	1. Denial

Grief wasn’t new by any means.

 

After all they were in a fucking zombie apocalypse.  People died all the time. And that’s where all of them were actually going.  Either with a bullet and something run through their skull and buried under rotting flesh and dirt or one of those undead things that no one was really a fan of.  

 

But just because of all of that, Negan had half expected the feeling of grief to dull, to sag like a wrinkly pair of tits.  

 

But the pain was the same.  That almost angry itching at the pit of his stomach was the same when he clicked off that walkie talkie and in one fluid motion, raised his hand to hurl it down at the ground.  

 

“Goddammit.”

 

He stopped short of destroying the device, knowing full well that supplies were low enough as it was without him throwing a damn walkie talkie around like a little bitch.  

 

The Savior that had handed him the walkie talkie in the first place, had kept his distance, cleaning a gun against a wall a few yards away.  He was almost too inconspicuous. 

 

“Boss?”  He asked, practically yelling but acting as if he was just next to Negan instead of far away enough to not read Negan’s face.

 

Negan instantly turned to grin widely at him and he could see the other man’s Adam’s apple bob a bit in response.  He started walking towards the Savior, his long legs quick to gap between them.

 

“Rick’s kid is dead.  Died like a champ.” Negan’s face tilted as he appeared  to all too happily relayed the information. He extended his hand with the walkie talkie to the Savior and gave him a content nod.  The man took the walkie talkie quickly and took a step off to the side as if to leave. His foot instead hit one of Negan’s black boots, blocking him from trying to get out of the conversation. “Did he say anything before he asked for me?”

 

“No, just that he was Rick Grimes and to ‘give him Negan’.”

 

“What did he sound like?”

 

“Sound like?”

 

“You know - did he sound like he had a stick up his ass, shaking, like he was able to get his dick sucked - what did he sound like?”  Negan leaned closer, his grin frozen in place and his eyebrows raised in question. The Savior stood his ground, his placed foot now just awkwardly brushing against his boot. 

 

“....kinda frustrated, I guess?”  The Savior had a guessing tone to his answer.  He turned his head to the sky. “A bit shaky. But then strong.”  He nodded to the sky before looking back at Negan expectantly. “Anything else?”

 

Negan nodded and stepped back, letting the Savior walk off.    If he had to guess, the news of the kid’s demise would be known by all that man’s friends within the hour, along with the all too flippant encounter he had had with the “boss”.  

 

He would have to remember him.  What was his name? Eric? Robert?  Something plain, he was sure. 

 

The place was still buzzing with activity, as people prepared guns, cars, anything else that looked mildly useful.  Not many people had seemed to notice the exchange and if they had, they were hiding it extremely well. Leaning back to stretch out his back a bit, Negan gave one last glance around again before heading back into the building.  He felt his legs carry him away from the main floor and up the stairs almost blindly. Since the flood of walkers, the main floor was no longer a hustling center of trade and bartering but instead, a hub of gathering supplies. The footsteps were heavy yet rushed.  If he truly looked closely, he would see almost all the faces in the room turn to face him as he passed by. The looks of barely disguised fear, the looks of hope, and looks of admiration of a few, mostly young men. 

 

But Negan’s legs were the ones in charge at the moment and so he didn’t notice any of this.

 

His legs brought him past some higher ranking Saviors that were talking together near some of the “meeting” rooms.  He nodded to them automatically but continued to his room without pausing. In two long strides, he had entered the room and closed the door behind him.  Without so much of another thought, he began to unbutton his jacket, eyes staring blankly ahead. 

 

“Negan...I’ve been waiting....”

 

He blinked, before looking down at the spot of floor near the fire.  Curled in what looked like one of his wives staring into the fire away from him, barely covered by the blanket she had taken from his bed.  While her upper body was wrapped in the cloth, he could see her back of her bare legs poking out of the bundle she was wrapped in. 

 

He did like her legs.

 

“Negan?”

 

She turned just her face over her shoulder and her face changed from a doubtful look to a smile.  “It  _ is _ you.”  

 

At that, she rose up slowly, letting the cloth pool beneath, no doubt a move she had practiced at some point.  Her steps towards him were slow and purposeful, her hips swaying in unnatural angles. 

 

Negan pulled off the rest of his jacket by the time she had walked up to be directly in from of him.  She placed both of her hands on his chest, over the white t-shirt he still had on. “Hey big boy.” 

 

The man stared over her head in boredom, though to her, he imagined it just looked stoic, which was fine by him.  Rachel always had too much of the wrong type of enthusiasm in the dirty talk department but he would always ignore her...or stuff her mouth with something so he didn’t have to think too much.  

 

As her hands ran further down his body, he couldn’t help wishing he had drank before he had opened the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I swear I had an ending for this in mind - one more chapter I think - or maybe 2. O.o I feel very rusty in writing and in writing Negan in general honestly. But being me of course, I wanted to write something about after that talk. Happy Sunday!


	2. Shock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Negan will be based on a mix of both TV Negan and Comic Negan. So “Here’s Negan” spoilers if you care about the comics.
> 
> Also spacing is kinda weird o.o not sure why.

It was when she started digging her nails into his abdomen that he found himself firmly grabbing her wrists.    
  
“How about…”. He looked down at her, trying to look interested and also think of an excuse for her to leave without becoming the usual withering, high pitched screaming mess she usually did during sex.     
  
He had come to discover that she was mainly just a great lay after a fight he didn’t completely win.  When he had to walk away from something with a half-joke and a bat that just wanted to smash things.   
  
Instead, he could smash her.     
  
And she would take it all, beg for more, beg for hair to be practically ripped out of her skull.  She also liked to dig her nails into everything, including his back skin. That, he wasn’t so much a fan of.   He was a kinky bastard for sure…but not a fan of blood play.   
  
“Negan baby?”   
  
“How about,” He let his thumbs lightly rub the skin it was resting against as he spoke.  Women usually liked that.   
  
“How about just a quick mouth fuck?  Your lips just look amazing…”. He trailed off on purpose, really not wanting to have to flatter her anymore.  Releasing her wrists, he handled her chin with both hands and let his thumbs push slowly inside her mouth. He watched amused as her eyes rolled back a bit.     
  
_He still had it._   
  
He leaned down to whisper in her left ear, his lips just grazing her lope.  “And then you get a gold ticket for the rest of the week.”   
  
The golden ticket method had been a great way to handle Rachel and other wives’ with surprisingly higher libidos than him.  A golden ticket for a week meant any time during the week you wanted dick, Negan was there and ready.   
  
Just not now.  Though he didn’t usually mention that part.     
  
Her eyes were back to looking at him and her head began to nod.  Negan let his hands drop from her face and with no other preamble, the woman dropped down to her knees.     
  
“Yes, baby, yes.”  He muttered in a low voice, pretending to look at the ceiling in anticipation.     
  
Her hands had made it passed his fly and were caressing his cock over his underwear.  He had to admit, it was nice to feel something warmer down there at the end of a long day.     
  
_Long day._   
  
As her hands continued to explore, Negan found his thoughts wandering as well.      
  
_“Carl’s dead.”_   
  
_It was as if those two words had instantly injected lead into his blood.  He suddenly felt tired, and took a seat against the railing, facing away from most of the workers.  His breathing felt unsteady but his body remained as still as he could manage as he processed the news.  His grip of the walkie-talkie underneath his gloves had tightened greatly, in anger and confusion. It was the one visible reaction he could allow._   
  
_“He wrote letters.  He wrote one to you.”_   
  
_Rick’s voice, meanwhile, continued to come out of the black device, the pain in the voice more evident when he couldn’t see the other man’s face._   
_  
_ _“He asked you to stop.  He asked me to stop._ He asked us for peace.”  

  
_Carl._   
  
_“But it’s too late for that.”_   
  
_Carl._   
  
_Carl  - the one-eyed idiot that had machine-gunned 2 of his men and still lived to tell the tale.  The fire in Carl’s eyes, when he had asked for Negan himself on a silver platter had tugged at Negan’s heartstrings a little that day._   
  
_A boy that young, yet that fierce. That loyal, that blind, almost innocent love that would drive someone that stupidly young to march into a death trap, confident in some senses._   
_  
_ It had been something that Negan used to wish for himself.  

_And maybe a little Negan down the road.  He wasn’t sure what would have happened if there had been a little Lucille in the picture._

_Probably something similar._

  
_But Carl._   
  
_Carl had reminded him of Before.  When he would boss around high school pricks and make half of them cry in the process.  Yapping about fucking their mothers’ dry pussies and how small their dicks were to make them want to give a shit about sports or life in general.   Nearly always - and maybe Lucille felt differently about it at the time - the tough love worked out. He never let any of those kids turn into a true dick.  That had been for Negan to be._   
  
_“How did it happen?”  He asked Rick, guilt now in his gut, churning._   
  
_“What?”_   
  
_“How did he die?  Was it us? Was it the grenades?  Was it fire?”_   
  
_“It wasn’t you.”   Rick’s throaty voice came over the speaker with such rage, it almost made Negan flinch.  “Carl went out to help someone. And he got bit.”_   
  
_Helping someone._   
  
_“Goddammit.”_   
  
_“I um...I am sorry.  You know...I wanted him to be a part of things. I had plans…...That kid….that kid was the future.”_   
  
_His stomach was getting worse.  And it all was reminding him of that day Lucille first collapsed on the driveway, just before she was diagnosed.  That disgusting sticky_ feeling _that made his body feel so heavy.  Helpless._   
  
_He recognized it immediately and did what he always did when it came nowadays.  Turned it off and became the Savior._   
  
_As if he could sense the change, Rick replied another angry retort - something about Negan being dead. Real original._   
  
_Negan inhaled quickly before responding, making sure his voice was as steady as possible._   
  
_“What are you doing this, Rick?  Why are you fighting, why are you making this so hard?  Carl is dead because of you. Because you couldn’t leave shit well enough alone.”_   
  
_“...he is dead because of you.  Because you weren’t there to stop him from doing something stupid.”_   
  
_He paused, knowing full well he didn’t believe half of the bullshit that he was saying but that just maybe, a broken Rick Grimes would.  And he would end this fucking ridiculous shit and Negan could go on being a Savior, fucking his wives and not having these weak ass memories taking over._   
  
_“You set this course, Rick.  Who’s next?”_   
  
_“You are!”_   
  
_“No.  But someone is,” Negan continued, staring ahead at the ground a few feet away from him, willing his body to be as strong as his voice sounded.  “...do not let any more of your shit decisions cause you to lose anyone else you love. That garbage….that sticks with you. Forever.”_   
_  
_ If he closed his eyes, he could picture Lucille’s face, the kids he used to coach, all of them, listening to his words.  

  
_So he stared harder at the ground._   
  
_“Hell, I’m feeling it. And I’m going to be feeling it for a while...you could have just let me save all of you.”_   
  
_“You failed as a leader….”_   
  
_The old gymnasium in his head now.  The sounds of basketballs and smell of kids without deodorant._   
  
_“And most of all, you failed as a father.”_   
  
_Carl, unwrapping his bandage, and his trembling eyelids as he met Negan’s gaze._   
  
_“Just...give up.  Give up because you-”_   
  
It was his nutting into Rachel’s mouth that pulled him out of his thoughts.  Not that he was surprised - sex tended to be a great distraction.   
  
He allowed himself to let out a grunt, realizing that he had abnormally silent during the blowjob.  He felt Rachel’s hands loosen their grip on his thighs. Her mouth and throat contracted as she bobbed her head a bit to swallow.   He waited until he felt her pull away to sigh out loudly. “God damn, I knew that mouth was just what I needed today.”   
  
He lowered himself to reach her, grabbing her around her middle as he helped her stand back up.  His dick was still out, low and hanging now out of his pants casually.   
  
Rachel was grinning, lips red from sucking.  Her eyes had lit up at his compliment and in the back of his mind, there was a bit of him that felt sorry for her.     
  
“Babe, I’m about to knock the fuck out after that treatment.  Just what the doctor ordered.” He leaned back dramatically. “I gotta big day tomorrow so I’m gonna have to leave you high and dry today but -”  he winked before grasping her shoulders and purposely walking her towards the door, “you go on and use that golden ticket, ya hear?”   
  
The woman nodded in reply, a bit dazed.  “I’ll make sure to surprise you,” she giggled before reaching down to pull at his cock with a lingering hand, “You better be ready.”   
  
He gave her one last gentle push out of the door frame and grinned even wider.  “Oh, I’ll be fucking ready. Just hope your feet are too!” He closed the door then, seeing a brief look of confusion on her face as it slammed shut.     
  
In all fairness, he _was_ overdue for some feet fucking.     
  
Looking around the dark grey room, he let out another breath, this one shaky.  He felt his face finally rest. His cheeks were relaxed and his shoulders lowered themselves.  He looked down at his dick, almost out of habit.   
  
“Damn, it’s cold.”  He muttered into his chest.  Wordlessly, he undressed the rest of his body and threw his clothes over a nearby chair.  Noticing the sweat on his now naked body, he knew he ought to take a shower...but it had been a long day.     
  
Such a long day.     
  
Somewhere in his fog, he had laid down on his bed.  But try as he might, his eyes would not close.   
  
“Just...give up.  Give up because you have already lost.”   
  
There were faces still floating around his head.  His skin felt prickly.   
  
“Maybe I do need that shower…”   
  
With a breath only he could hear in the silent room, he got up out of bed and headed to the bathroom.  With automatic motions, he stepped into the shower and turned on the water. It was cold, of course.   
  
He closed his eyes and let the water run down his face as he ran his fingers through his hair.  He felt it getting heavier with the weight of water. And as he stood there, he just focused on the water and the different places it was running down his body, his chest hair being the most resistant.  Just as he was about to open his eyes, he felt something brush against his back.   
  
Something warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So this turned into a character study. 
> 
> But anyways - I actually wasn’t a fan of the walkie-talkie exchange or anything really these last couple of episodes - the finale was horrible in my opinion. If you can, read the comics. 
> 
> But this plot is still happening in my head so one more cliche chapter to goooooooo.


End file.
